


Frail State Of Mind

by chelsjadexox (goldenhes)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Major Illness, Mentions of Cancer, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenhes/pseuds/chelsjadexox
Summary: “What does that mean? What do we do now?” He asked timidly, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes stared a hole in the coffee table in front of them.“It means we have a year. Maybe two.”or... the one in which i had a random burst of muse and decided to cause myself a lot of pain
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	Frail State Of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning!!! please be aware this fic contains heavy discussion of brain cancer/tumours x

Of all the things Bailey Lawson had anticipated for her future when she was a child sat creating a mood board of how she wanted her life to turn out with glitter and glue, a terminal diagnosis on her twenty second birthday was not one of them. She’d excitedly stuck down photos of puppies, popstars, big houses with white picket fences, and wedding dresses - everything a typical little girl dreams of having when they come of age. There had never been any rush to obtain the things she’d dreamed of, the promise of endless tomorrows always making it far too easy for her to instead bury herself in work and late nights with pretty boys who broke her heart. 

She’d never felt the need to rush, even when she stumbled across a love so profound it shook her to her core. Harry Styles had come into her life at a time when everything was starting to come together; her career was starting to take off, her own smile staring back at her whenever she walked into the local surf shop, her parents had decided to give their marriage a second chance, and for the first time in her short life - Bailey was happy. 

Meeting Harry Styles had changed everything. The night they met was still fresh in her mind, the feel of his hands on her body as they drunkenly danced around his managers living room so intoxicating it was impossible to forget. His hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of his head, the loose strands tickling her face when he leaned in to whisper things that were only for her to know. She remembered what he was wearing, the silk of his shirt feeling like butter when she’d slipped it off his shoulders at the end of the night. 

Every detail was crystal clear, but she could only assume that’s how it went when you met your soulmate.

Harry didn’t so much complete her picture of comfortable happiness as he did add to it, slipping into an empty space and offering warmth and love without condition. He walked into her life one random Saturday night and since then they’d not spent more than twenty four hours apart. She was happy. Everything was finally going the way it was supposed to.

Poetically, that was exactly when everything began to fall apart. The migraines had been something she’d been struggling with for over a year before she even considered that it required a doctors attention, the model finding her own ways to cope with the pain until it finally became too much for even her to deal with. 

She’d gone in expecting to be told she needed glasses or to be prescribed some sort of medication to help her when they snuck up on her at night. She wasn’t expecting to be sent for an mri and to three different specialists in the following week. Everything seemed to go from zero to a hundred, all because of a few bad headaches. She’d rolled her eyes and pressed a lingering kiss to her boyfriends lips when he’d offered to come to the fateful doctors appointment, promising him she wouldn’t be late to her own birthday dinner.

On some level Bailey knew it should have been a warning sign when her doctor asked her to come in urgently, keeping the surgery open an hour after closing just so that he could see her. The hum of a vacuum cleaner echoed through the small doctors surgery as she handed her insurance card to the same receptionist she’d made polite and often playful small talk with a hundred times before. Today, for whatever reason, the sweet older woman who eerily reminded her of her deceased grandmother offered her nothing but a small smile tainted with sadness. Warning sign number two.

Still, Bailey sat in her usual spot in the waiting room and tapped her foot along with the latest Selena Gomez hit playing quietly through the speakers built into the roof above her. If she’d known the news she was about to get, she would have requested a song with some sort of depth play rather than a pop song about getting drunk and sleeping with a stranger in Ibiza. When her doctor finally emerged from his room, he didn’t so much as say her name as he gestured for her to enter. He didn’t even offer his usual questions about how her parents were or if her brother was staying out of trouble. Warning sign number three.

“It must be bad news.” Bailey laughed playfully as she took her seat, her handbag resting on her lap the same way it did every time she found herself sitting across from her doctor. She wasn’t rewarded with a smile or any form of response other than a quiet sigh as her lifelong gp turned off his computer screen and turned to face her. The warning signs were coming hard and fast now and despite herself, Bailey’s heart began to beat unsteadily in her chest. He ran his hands up and down the length of his thighs for a beat before clearing his throat and finally meeting her eyes. 

“This isn’t something you should hear alone, love. Do you want to call you parents before we talk? I don’t mind waiting.” He offered with a smile that dripped with insincerity. Bailey shook her head without saying a word, her grip on the faux leather straps of her handbag tightening ever so slightly.

“Don’t tell me I need glasses.” The laugh that fell from her lips this time was void of any sense of humour, the sound dry and lifeless in a way she’d never heard before. The small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips offered a brief moment of comfort, though it was quickly ripped away as he shuffled forward on his seat and looked her dead in the eye.

“You have a stage four glioblastoma, a sizeable mass, on your frontal lobe. It’s hard to say how long its been there, but its set up a home for itself in a place that renders it virtually impossible to stop.” The silence that followed was surely an attempt to give Bailey a beat to absorb what he was saying, but all that she could think of was her family and friends sat at her favourite restaurant waiting to celebrate her birthday with her. She offered a subtle nod of her head, her throat suddenly bone dry as her hands began to drip with sweat. 

She sat there silently as he stood and moved to hold her mri results up to the light. Her eyes moved across the photo of the inside of her head, her eyes widening at the black mass impossible to miss. She could faintly make out the words _make you comfortable_ and _neurosurgeon appointment_ but none of it was sinking in. None of this was sinking in.

“Are you saying I’m going to die?” Bailey asked without looking away from the mass sat comfortably on her brain, the slight tremble of her bottom lip completely involuntary. He sighed again, the sound sparking a moment of rage deep in her chest. What did _he_ have to be sighing about? 

“A year. Two, maybe.” The words echoed in her head as he put her mri away and dared to lean forward, placing his hand on top of hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. She was sure it was supposed to be comforting, but it wasn’t. 

Despite just being told that she had an inoperable tumour on her brain, the timeframe that was being offered to her was the one thing that she really heard. She’d been having migraines for over a year - why hadn’t she seen a doctor sooner? What about her parents? How was she going to tell her little brother? Oh god, she was going to have to break up with Harry. She was more likely than not going to celebrate her last birthday today. A million things began pulsing through her mind, panic quickly rising in her chest as the man across from her began listing grief counsellors to help her process the news. Before making the conscious choice to do so, she was on her feet and grabbing the pamphlets and mri results he’d placed down on the table before her. 

“I’ll make another appointment so my parents can… They’ll want to… I have to… Everyone is waiting for me.” Bailey breathed as she let herself out of his office, shoving the pamphlets deep down into her handbag and putting the mri under her arm. 

She couldn’t deal with this right now. Not while her family and friends were waiting to celebrate her life. With a deep breath, Bailey started the ignition of the car Harry had bought her for her last birthday and made her way to the restaurant - all the while thinking of how to tell her parents they were losing a child. Where would she even start? How do you tell your parents you’re going to die?

Bailey let out a slow breath as she pulled up to the restaurant and stared through the window, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips at the sight of her boyfriend throwing his head back in laughter at something. She tucked her dirty blonde hair behind her ears with a hammering heart, quickly meeting her own blue eyes in the rearview mirror before she was ready. She’d tell him first, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to go home with him and _not_ share the news that was going to end their relationship. With that, she pushed her mri under the passenger seat and got out of the car. 

The entire celebration passed by in a blur, the blonde smiling and greeting each of her well wishers as if her whole life hadn’t just been turned on its head. She opened presents and let her laugh carry through the room at the inside jokes her friends had made in her cards, she didn’t protest when her dad leaned over her shoulder and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek before he left the party for work, she blew out the candles, cut her cake and made a wish she knew would never come to fruition, and smiled against the kisses Harry pressed to her lips every fifteen minutes. For two hours, everything was okay. For two hours, she let herself pretend everything was okay.

Harry always took three times as long to leave a restaurant as anyone else did, making a point of taking selfies with other patrons and staff and offering polite conversation in a way that was so typically Harry it no longer bothered her. She took the time to wrap an arm around her little brothers shoulder, pulling his body close to hers and thanking a higher power for the fact that he didn’t pull away from her for once. Her eyes traced over the balloons and gifts her mother and Harry’s were carrying out to the car; endless reminders of how many people loved and cared about her. Each of her birthday cards were signed with love, messages of how kind and wonderful she was soon to be nothing but a reminder for her parents that they’d raised a good woman. 

“Alright, baby. We’ll see you for dinner on Sunday night.” Her mother smiled warmly as she slung her handbag over her shoulder and glanced around for Harry so that she could say goodbye. Bailey merely nodded her head as she pressed a kiss to her brothers head, eyes squeezing shut for a beat when his arms tightened their grip around her waist. 

“Happy birthday, Bailey. Love you so much, sweet girl.” Anne’s voice suddenly came from behind her, arms winding around her waist and bringing a smile to her face despite how low she was beginning to feel. Apparently there really was nothing an Anne Twist cuddle couldn’t fix, no matter how short a time for. Bailey turned without hesitating, wrapping her arms around her boyfriends mothers shoulders and sinking into the warmth she offered as Anne let out a quiet laugh of surprise. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t going to have a hundred more chances to hug her before the year was out, but she wasn’t going to waste a single one of those chances. 

Before she knew it every one of her relatives had filed out of the restaurant, leaving her stood by the door waiting for Harry in the same manner she had been a dozen times before. It stopped bothering her long ago, now finding a charm in the way he always had a little kindness up his sleeve - even for total strangers. 

His laugh echoed through the room the way it always did, the tequila pulsing through his veins bringing out his beaming smile as he took selfies and ran a hand through his hair just for the sake of it. He was so effortlessly magnetic, so many eyes on him and yet when he turned and searched the room; it was her he was looking for. The smile on his face softened at the sight of her, Bailey’s heart aching in her chest as she offered him the same loving smile until he was back at her side.

**\------**

The drive back to the apartment she shared with her boyfriend was filled with gossipy, playful chat about their friends and things going on in their lives, Bailey gripping his hand a little too tightly as they pulled into the driveway and were met with the sound of silence. The looming storm cloud above them was weighing heavy on her mind as she climbed out of the car and led the way into their home, dropping her handbag on the sofa and letting her hair out of the bun it had been tied up in all day. 

She was faintly aware of the fact Harry was still listing off bits of gossip he’d accrued over dinner, but for the most part her mind was focused on the slight ache in her head. It was almost as if the tumour was reminding her that even though things felt okay, they weren’t. Just because she was happy and in love and felt unstoppable, she wasn’t. 

“Can I give you my second gift now?” Harry’s voice came from directly behind her suddenly, hands finding their home low on her hips as warm lips peppered kisses along the top of her shoulder. Bailey’s eyes slipped closed of their own accord, her body instinctively leaning back into his arms before she hummed quietly and gently pried his hands off her body. Harry didn’t put up an inch of a fight, letting his body go lax and refusing to make another move when there was obviously something going on in her mind. She laced their fingers together as she led him to the couch, making a point to face him as he sat down and ran a hand up and down the length of her thigh. 

“I have to tell you something. It’s pretty big, so I need you to let me get it all out before you say anything or ask anything, okay?” Bailey breathed, the words coming out in a rush as she forced her eyes up to meet his. Concern was written all over his sweet face, his brow pulled together and lips pursed tightly in anticipation. Whatever was going through his mind couldn’t have been half as bad as what she was about to tell him, and a part of her wanted nothing more than to preserve the comfortable ignorance he was living in. So she tried to. 

“We have to break up. These past three years have been the best of my life, and I don’t think I’d be who I am today without you, but everything is just… I think it’s time I do my own thing.” The words flowed with a confidence she did not possess, though Harry didn’t seem to buy a single word of it. His facial expression didn’t change, his posture didn’t change, and his hand on her thigh didn’t move an inch.

“What happened at the doctor?” He asked without missing a beat, Bailey feeling her eyes widen and panic rise in her chest much like it had hours earlier. How did he do that? How did he always know? With a clearing of her throat, she merely nodded her head and grabbed the pamphlets from her bag. She made a point of keeping them face down in her lap, one single fingertip under Harry’s chin forcing his eyes back to hers when he tried to examine what they were.

This was it. 

She was about to turn his life on its head. For the rest of his career, for the rest of his life, he was going to be _Harry Styles, the pop star whose girlfriend died of a brain tumour at twenty two years old._ Then again, no one really cared who she was, so perhaps it was nothing but wishful thinking to imagine anyone outside of her family would care enough to write about her once she was gone.

“I have a brain tumour.”

Based on the way Harry’s face immediately ceased to show any sort of emotion, she was right in assuming that this wasn’t even remotely close to what he was thinking it would be. In his defence, who would think their girlfriend would come home from a normal doctor's visit with a brain tumour? She sat quietly, letting him process the information and get his questions in order all the while gripping tightly to her thigh like he was worried she was going to vanish if he loosened his hold. 

“What does that mean? What do we do now?” He asked timidly, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes stared a hole in the coffee table in front of them.

“It means we have a year. Maybe two.” 

All things considered, Bailey knew she should have processed the news a little more herself before sharing it with someone close to her who was destined to have questions she didn’t have the answers to. Harry sucked in a sharp breath at her words, shaking his head and letting go of her thigh as he shifted to rest his head in his hands on the edge of the couch. She was at a total loss for what to do, what to say, instead opting to toy with her hands in her lap and wait for Harry to be ready before saying anything else.

Much to her surprise, he didn’t say anything. Instead he was on his feet and pacing out of the room leaving her sat in the low light of their living room wishing that she’d given them the night before tearing their relationship to shreds. 

Tears burned behind her eyes, the heels of her hands pressing harshly against them in a feeble attempt to keep them at bay. If it wasn’t real before, it was real now. She heard Harry come back into the room, the sound of his Chelsea boots on the hardwood floor unmistakeable. No matter how much she begged herself to pry her hands away from her face to get one last look at his face up close before he left - she couldn’t move.

“Open your birthday present, Bails.” Harry started, not a hint of sadness or anger in his voice catching Bailey off guard and suddenly making it all too easy to drop her hands from her eyes as he returned to his place on the sofa beside her. She accepted the slim white envelope being offered out to her, sniffling quietly as she pulled two train tickets to Scotland into sight. There was an obvious sentiment behind the tickets but in the heat of the moment, she couldn’t find it. 

“There’s more in there.” Harry laughed quietly, leaning into her space to pull her bucket list from behind the two tickets and holding it out before her. _Ride the train through the Scottish Highlands_ was ticked, number thirteen on her list. “I’ve got a show in Glasgow in a week, but I remember on our first date you said you’ve always wanted to do the train ride through the highlands, so…”

The sentiment hit her like a ton of bricks, throat tightening and every nerve ending in her body seeming to turn to goo as she placed the envelope and tickets down on the coffee table and turned to meet his eyes. She searched his eyes for what could have been hours for any hint of doubt, but staring back at her was nothing but complete confidence and love. 

“Are you sure about this?” Bailey asked, barley getting the words out before Harry was closing the distance between them and silencing her with a kiss. Her hands were on his face in the next instant, thumbs tracing lightly over his cheekbones and committing the feel of his painfully soft skin to memory. 

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’m not letting you go for anything.” He gave her a soft smile as she spoke, and despite herself Bailey actually felt her tense shoulders relax. 

“Meet me upstairs? I have to get something from the car.” He nodded his head silently at her words, leaning forward to press one more kiss to her lips before disappearing up the staircase. 

Ten minutes later Bailey was placing her mri and all the pamphlets the doctor had given her on the bed in front of Harry, leaving them there for him to go through while she stripped out of her clothes and into one of his oversized Rolling Stones t-shirts. She looked herself over in the floor length mirror on the wall, finding it hard to picture something so big and dangerous in her brain when she looked so… the same. How could she have something so big in her head and not look any different?

“Do you want me to call and make you an appointment?” Harry asked from behind her suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts as she turned and joined him on the bed they’d shared for years.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry, sunflower.” There was something behind his words that she’d never heard before, something so sad and tired it made her chest ache. 

“We can talk it all out tomorrow. Can we just…” Bailey breathed, running her hands through her hair before grabbing the mri and pamphlets and shoving them into her bedside table. “It’s still my birthday.” She pointed out with a smile, Harry’s laugh causing butterflies to rush through her.

“And you want your third gift.” 

“And I want my third gift.” Bailey smirked as she rolled on top of his body, his mouth immediately pressing open mouth kisses across every bit of exposed skin until Bailey was squealing.

“Happy birthday, sunflower.” Harry laughed against her lips, though all amusement was quickly replaced with labored breathing as he reached down between her legs.

He knew her body like the back of her hand, but nothing compared to the way her mouth fell open and her back arched ever so slightly when his fingers moved against her clit for the first time. Harry hummed contently as he dipped his fingers lower, unsurprised to find her already wet and ready for him. It never took much to get her turned on when it came to him.

Everything about the two of them fit together so effortlessly, the fact their bodies were made for one another a joke they shared all too often. Harry had spent what he was sure was years of his life writing endless words about how much he adored the girl beneath him, but it was never enough. How do you write about something so personal and so _real_ it makes you want to scream? 

He slipped two fingers inside of her with ease, Bailey’s fingernails digging into his shoulder blades leaving tiny crescent moon shapes as his fingers brushed against that spot inside of her that caused goosebumps to prickle her skin.

“Want you, need _you._ ” Bailey breathed, turning her head to catch Harry’s lips in hers. He nodded his head wordlessly, shifting between her legs before pushing his boxers down and off his thighs. 

Neither of them were in the mood to take things slow, their hearts so heavy in their chest’s all they wanted was to feel close to one another. Harry slipped on a condom with one hand, the other between Bailey’s legs moving against her clit in purposeful circles. Her chest was rising and falling dramatically, her eyes closed as her hands covered her own tits on pure instinct. 

“Look at me.” She opened her eyes without hesitation as Harry spoke, his green eyes all but sparkling in the low light in their bedroom as he pushed his hips forward into hers.

“Harry,” Bailey breathed, her eyes slipping closed for a beat as she felt her body adjust to his length. It didn’t matter how often they did this, she was convinced she’d never get used to how good he felt.

They didn’t take things slow, didn’t spend hours getting lost in one another as pleasure washed over them. Harry’s hips moved against hers with obvious purpose, his forehead on her shoulder as sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck. 

“Harder.” Bailey begged, her legs wrapping around his waist as the sound of Harry’s moan echoed off the walls. 

It was then that it occurred to her that she wouldn’t be the one he spent the rest of his life fucking. There were going to be other girls he loved and shared their bed with - her heart sinking just as he bumped her g-spot.

“Fuck - Oh my god.” Harry moaned as she tightened around his cock, the sound of his voice bringing her back to the moment.

As soon as he moved to wrap his lips around one of her nipples Bailey felt her orgasm creeping up on her, her muscles tightening as every nerve ending in her body suddenly came to life. It was like an electric current was pulsing through her, every thrust of Harry’s hips setting her insides on fire.

“I’m gonna…” Harry groaned, sinking his teeth into the flesh on her chest as her orgasm crashed into her. It was rare for them to come at the same time, one of them always ahead of the other. Not tonight. 

A tired laugh slipped past Bailey’s lips as he rolled off her body and onto his back, tieing off the condom and tossing it into the trash by their bed. 

“That wasn’t very good birthday sex.” Harry apologised with a slight frown as he rolled onto his side, brushing a loose strand of dirty blonde hair away from her sweet face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I think we were both a little distracted.” The smile the singer was met with was tainted with sadness, and it was almost too much.

“You look really beautiful.” He replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he pressed a soft kiss to hers. 

**\------**

When Bailey woke hours later it was to a pain unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Her eyes squeezed shut, the heels of her hands digging into her forehead as she shot up into a seated position. Behind her closed eyes she noticed Harry turning on the light, the space between her suddenly empty as she rocked back and forth slowly. 

“Oh my god - Fuck!” Harry exclaimed as he banged his hip on the edge of the bed as he rushed past to get her medication, the sound echoing in Bailey’s head and making it ten times worse.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Here, open your mouth.” Harry’s whispered voice came from in front of her suddenly, the singer popping two zolmitriptan’s onto her tongue and pouring water into her mouth. They’d spent so many nights laughing over the ridiculously long names of the drugs she’d been prescribed for her migraines, but it wasn’t funny anymore. None of it was funny anymore.

As soon as Bailey swallowed the pills the light was out again, Harry chewing on the inside of his cheek as he sat there helplessly while tears trickled down his girlfriends cheeks. Touching her was a no go, Bailey only able to handle so many physical things at once. When she was having a migraine attack like she was now; they just had to ride it out. The singer felt his heart sink as a sobering thought passed through his mind; at least she won’t be in pain forever. 

It was an hour before Bailey was slowly blinking her eyes open, immediately meeting Harry’s soft eyes. He offered her an empathetic smile as he laid down and opened his ams, lips pressing lightly against her forehead as her body relaxed into his.

“Do you want a sleeping tablet?” Harry offered, though he hoped she said no. 

“No, this is enough.” Bailey whispered, kissing one of his collarbones before finally letting her eyes close as the pain started to subside.

To say that Harry had been on the phone every other minute of everyday trying to get his girlfriend in with the best neurosurgeon he could find wouldn’t be a overstatement - and he wasn’t sorry. He had strings to pull, and if there was ever a reason to pull them it was Bailey Lawson.

“You know _you_ don’t have a brain tumour, right?” The model had teased as they sat in the surgeons office, Harry’s leg bouncing as he held her hand so tight his rings left a mark.

When Harry turned to meet her eyes words like _this is serious_ and _this is life or death_ were on his lips. The second he caught sight of the fear in her eyes the words vanished, the singer rolling his eyes and leaning across to press a lingering kiss to her lips. 

They were interrupted by the door opening, both of them rising to their feet to shake the doctors hand. It was terrifying to think those hands literally held Bailey’s life in them, Harry thought as he took a breath and sat back down. He didn’t look anything like what they’d expected, the doctor before them only in his mid forties and in _jeans._ Harry felt his brow furrow; everyone had said this guy was the best of the best. Why was he wearing _jeans?_

“So, Miss Lawson -”

“Bailey.” She corrected him with a polite smile, pulling one of Harry’s hands into her lap and holding on tight. 

“Sorry can I just… Before we get started I just need to…” Harry let out a slow breath as Bailey looked across at him with a furrowed brow. “I need you to know that this woman is my person. She is my _person,_ do you understand that? She has a family and people who love her.” Harry spoke clearly, eyes staring straight into the doctors who nodded his head slowly in understanding. “She is my person and if you - Everyone says you’re the best so I need to know… Why do they think that?” 

“Jesus, Harry.” Bailey breathed, running her free hand through her hair and turning to apologise to the doctor who was staring straight at her boyfriend.

“People say I’m the best because I’m honest, and I’m not scared to take on tumours that most are.” He looked between the two of them, Bailey thankful to be included in a conversation that was based around the rest of her life. 

“I don’t want it sugar coated. I need to know.” Bailey replied, ignoring the gentle squeeze Harry gave her hand. The doctor nodded, putting on his glasses that were way to stylish for a doctor and opening the manilla folder before him that contained the results of all her tests and scans.

“We say the average survival rate for Glioblastoma’s is twelve to eighteen months.” He took his glasses off as he spoke, looking Bailey in the eye before he continued. “Only 25% of patients survive past twelve months, and 5% of those survive past five years.” 

“Fuck.” Harry breathed, letting go of Bailey’s hand and immediately starting to run his hands up and down the length of his thighs. She couldn’t comfort him right now. Right now she needed answers.

“What do I do now?” Her voice was surprisingly clear as she spoke, the model pulling a small notebook and a pen from her handbag before turning to look at her boyfriend who looked like he was about to throw up. “You need to listen. I need you to remember this stuff.” Harry nodded his head and sat up straight, moving a hand to smooth up and down the length of Bailey’s back.

“You’re what we classify as a stage four. Ideally I want to go in and remove as much of the tumour as I can, and as soon as I have we can start radiation and chemotherapy to slow the growth of the residual tumour.”

“Residual? You’re not going to take the whole thing out?” Harry asked, and it was a fair question.

“Where the tumour is located… If we were to remove the whole thing…” He trailed off, looking straight into Bailey’s eyes before he continued. “If you survived, you wouldn’t be you. You could have severe memory loss, mood swings. You just wouldn’t be…”

“Bailey.” She nodded, taking a deep breath before searching her mind for every other question she wanted to ask. “When do we do the surgery?”

“Soon. In cases like yours I like to get in as soon as I can. I can make time on Friday.” Of all the things Bailey had heard since she walked into the hospital, that shocked her the most.

“As in… in two days time?” Harry asked with wide eyes, obviously just as surprised as her. 

“The longer we wait…” The doctors shrugged, not needing to finish his sentence. 

The longer they waited, the more likely she was to die. Friday. A man she’d just met would be cutting into her brain in two days. The intensity of everything they were talking about had her head spinning, her eyes closing for a beat. 

“I have to tell my parents.” Bailey realised out loud, opening her eyes too quickly and watching as the room began to spin around her. Her eyes closed again on the own accord, the model reaching a hand out to grab Harry’s arm as a way of reminding herself the room wasn’t spinning.

“Stand up, Bailey. Hold onto him and feel how steady he is.” The doctor directed, Harry immediately pulling her to her feet and holding onto her hands until the spinning stopped. He’d always made the metaphorical spinning in her head easier to deal with, and now he was grounding her when the world really did feel like it was going to fall out from under her.

Bailey’s parents knew something was up less than ten minutes into their daughters visit. Maybe it was the way she refused to let go of either of them until they were prying her arms away playfully, or maybe it was because she made a b-line for her brothers room and forced him to come hang out with them. Regardless of why, they knew something wasn’t right. 

“Are you okay, angel?” Bailey’s mother asked as the model chewed on her bottom lip idly, one arm around Harry’s waist as she leant her weight against him for comfort. 

Harry gave her a gentle squeeze, the singer pressing a kiss to the side of her head before untangling his body from hers and looking across at her seventeen year old brother.

“You learned anything new on the piano?” Harry asked with a warm smile, not a single hint of sadness or suspicion in his voice. Her brother was smirking immediately, nodding towards the living room without missing a beat.

“No, it’s okay.” Bailey interjected, grabbing onto Harry’s arm as he tried to follow her brother out of the room. “He needs to hear this too.” That was all it took to have them all sat around the dining room table, Harry’s hand holding tightly onto both of Bailey’s in her lap.

There wasn’t an easy way to say what needed to be said, and the more she sat there putting off the inevitable the more worried her mother looked. 

“Are you pregnant?” Her dad blurted out with a smile, causing a laugh to slip from Harry’s lips that died out quickly. The singer felt his stomach twist and turn at the realisation that they were never going to be sharing that news with her family.

“No, it’s nothing like that. Can you grab…?” Bailey trailed off, nodding to where her handbag sat on the floor beside Harry’s feet. He nodded his head silently, dropping her hands and pulling out her mri and all the paperwork and new pamphlets they’d gotten at the hospital.

“Is this gonna take long?” Lucas enquired with a bored sigh, the move so typically her brother the model couldn’t help but smile.

“You know those migraines I was having?” Bailey started, looking directly at her mother as she spoke. “Well I went to the doctor and he sent me for an mri and a bunch of tests and…” The silence that filled the room was deafening, her brother’s bored expression morphing into something more serious as he leaned forward in his seat nervously. 

“I have something called a glioblastoma.” Based on the way her father’s eyes widened and her mother let out a sharp breath, they knew what that meant. 

“I don’t get it.” Lucas frowned as their mother began to shake where she sat.

Bailey could feel the burning behind her eyes as she turned her body towards her little brother; the boy she’d spent so many years playing hide and seek and telling all her secrets too. Her bottom lip was shaking as she tried to speak, tears daring to trickle down her cheeks as Harry smoothed a hand up and down the length of her back slowly.

“It means she has cancer, mate.” Harry replied when it became apparent that his girlfriend wasn’t going to be able to get the words out. 

“What did the doctor say? Are they doing chemo?” Her father asked with a tremor in his voice, Bailey nodding her head and wiping at her eyes before she spoke again. 

“It’s in my frontal lobe. He wants to go in and remove it and then yeah, chemo and radiation until…” She shrugged, knowing there was no way she was going to be able to tell her parents in direct words that she was going to die.

“Baby…” Her mum started, shaking her head before climbing to her feet and making her way to her daughter. 

Bailey was on her feet in a heartbeat, letting her mother wrap her in her arms without any protest. In the background she could make out the sound of Harry explaining the doctors appointment to her dad and brother, but all she could focus on was the feel of her mum holding onto her. How was there ever going to be a time where she wasn’t going to be able to go to her mum and have her fix everything with a hug? Her hugs always fixed everything. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Her brother asked suddenly, his voice loud as he pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his feet. Bailey’s mum pulled away from her then, all eyes on Lucas as he stared straight as Bailey.

“It means they’re going to do everything they can to make sure what time I have left is the best it can be.” Her mother’s eyes slipped closed as she spoke, but her brother just continued to frown as Bailey stepped towards him. 

“Lucas…” Harry warned, knowing her brother well enough to be able to sense what was coming. He didn’t say a word, merely frowned across at Bailey before storming out of the room.

“We’ll talk to him.” Her dad promised from where he sat still staring at her mri like maybe if he stared at it hard enough the tumor would vanish. “I’m so sorry baby.” 

Her father’s words echoed in her head the whole drive home, Bailey wondering if she was destined to hear those same words from everyone she knew going forward. _ I’m sorry _ . She couldn’t really blame them when it came down to it - what else were they supposed to say?


End file.
